


Zero x Nonentity

by MisterPseudonymous



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Mentally Damaged Main Character, POV Female Character, Plot that does not interfere with canon (until caught up), Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 18:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6716443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterPseudonymous/pseuds/MisterPseudonymous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What they did to you... was wrong. No one should be chained."</p>
<p>Your village crippled you, and you didn't know how until you left. Rest assured, however, you would break these invisible chains. You would be free one day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter x One x Yorknew City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bartender, where is my drink?

** Chapter x One x Yorknew City **

Before you, the city sprawled wide and unremittingly. Buildings rose like steel colossi causing you to crane just to see the zenith caress the nighttime sky. From the airship earlier, you knew Yorknew was a beast of a city, but the scope could only be appreciated in person—in scale—with bevies of sounds and smells, and people and edifices. So many novel experiences all at once... and you consumed it all with hungry, gluttonous eyes and ears. Barely an hour or so in Yorknew City and you only missed starry skies.

You took a step forward, adjusting your backpack while doing so. The contents _cling_ ed in disorganization. You had no destination, no place to go, but the world was your cocoon. Only recently did you learn just how massive that cocoon truly was. No time would be wasted, and you would uncover _everything_ that had been denied you.

From underneath the black hood, you stared at people walking past, marveled at how so many countless faces existed in so small a place... how different they talked; how different they looked; how different their clothing. It fascinated you that people could be so absolutely disparate. As you strolled the crowd, you avoided bumping into others. However, once in a while, that task was nigh impossible, and each time the person jumped in a startled manner as if unaware of your existence until the physical contact alerted them to your presence. At the very least, it confirmed your suspicions that here was no different from home... Hell, it could even more severe than in your village.

Slipping into an alley, you broke from the throng, and took a moment to breathe deeply the unfamiliar air. Either side of the alley rose impossibly high and the sheer proximity made it feel narrower than it really was. Steam billowed from metal coverings in the ground at regular intervals, and you briefly pondered their purpose before losing interest. After all, you much liked that bright, glowing pink sign reading: Bar. Sleuthing up to the door, you languidly opened it. Immediately your ears were assaulted with a nimiety of conversations, and you grinned gleefully as you entered this bar-thing.

By the time you sat on a stool at the end of a long wooden counter, your eyes were already adjusted to the dimness. Again, you kept your hood up and your gaze lowered—the less eye contact you made, the less likely anyone took notice of you. So you relaxed, enjoying _not_ being on your tired feet for a spell and simply listened to this neoteric microcosm that you were finally a part of.

Many people talked excitedly about an "auction" being held soon, whatever that was. The man in a black suit next to you asked a tall fellow on the other side of the counter—was that the _bar_?—for some "dirty martini, shaken". A pair of well-built individuals near you talked about some interesting fights and dark horses in Heavens Arena. That man started to drum his fingers impatiently. A couple women commented on plush dolls they purchased from the bull-market, and you gave a glance at said dolls to confirm the cuteness. They were. The impatient suited man's drink came, and it had olives... you liked olives. When he was slightly distracted, you grabbed the beverage and nursed it against your chest. You poked a green olive playfully before eating it. Whatever the drink was, its scent was odd and pungent. As you took a tentative sip, the man yelled, "Bartender, where is my drink?"

The bartender fellow glowered down, "I gave it to you."

You ate another olive, you could get used to this place.


	2. Chapter x Two x A Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi, ‘m Beat Styles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 11 | 1 | 16 Finally fixed some typos, hopefully all of them.

** Chapter x Two x A Name **

With sleep came dreams; with dreams came memories; with memories came a song—a song never to be cantillated but your bones felt it, nay _serenaded_ the antediluvian chorus. A trembling hand reaching in the dark… Beat, bloody and battered, looking fixedly when no one else… Last breath wasted on words of ruth to a nigh-stranger, “What they did to you… was wrong. No one should be chained.”

And the nightmare shifted into something fantastical—of vast foreign lands, of watchful eyes nestled in the crevices of a pythonic tree, of equally enormous flora and fiends, of adventure unknown. In the midst of pummeling a two-tailed lizard-monster that _should_ have been doubled over from its mammoth size, you glowered into its derpy face and the beast, too, knew its doom for its arms, too short to be of any use, clawed pitifully at nothing. A shrill scream woke you.

“Oh-my-oh-my-oh-my!” she cried, nearly bashing the back of her head on the table she was cleaning under. “I ne’er saw—how did ya not—who let ya—”

After discarding the rag she held with a wet _splopp_ , she ran a hand through her disheveled green hair; like the wonderful lime drink you tasted before falling asleep under this very table. Perhaps that was why her features, unlike so many, came easily for you to describe and attribute. “We’r close’ now, custom’r."

You stared back at her, much akin to the derpi-lizard unable to do anything, and a smile slowly spread across your face. Someone noticed you, without any action on your part. Besides that, the person _spoke to you_. What should you say? What was a correct greeting?

Perhaps from taking too long, the round faced woman went on with a defeated sigh, “Hi, ‘m Amee, an’ you’re?”

The oversized hoodie that served as your glorified snuggie had the scent of an unacquainted man—one that you could never meet… you did not want to be you, the you that was like air. Maybe a new name… because the talking lime wanted to know, right? That’s what was asked, right?

Your first attempt consisted of incoherent hand signs until, finally, you mimed with, “Hi, ‘m Beat Styles...”

Lime guided you off the floor, and gently ushered you towards the door via pushing against your backpack, one that you’ve owned since you took his name. “Weeeelll, Beat Styles. We’r close’ now. Comma back la’er.” And the door slammed in your puzzled face.

The words—bar—lacked the brightness of the prior night, such a curiosity. In the overwhelming sunlight, the alley looked completely unrecognizable. Pondering pensively, you wanted to return “la’er” as per the lime, but you did not want to get lost in a city a zillion times the size of your village. Thus you backstepped—at times _literally_ as you were wont to do—recalling how many steps until you made out of the alley, to the end of the street, to the turn of the road, until someone bumped into you. You liked counting, it passed the time.

Before long, you stood under the shade of rare, for the city, tree quite near the airship landing that originally brought you to Yorknew. An innumerable, even more so than last you schlepped that way, amount of people briskly walking. As a silent observer, you marveled, once more, at the sheer diversity—yet within such diversity, similarities arose—and you found solace that they ignored each other as much as they ignored you. 

And thus you began to converse with the passerby, though not with words but with the hand signs of your mostly silent people.

_Hello, Suit One. Nice weather, right?_

_Suit Three, Suit Two is reaaaaaaaallly rude, don’t you think?_

_Oh, Cherry, what are you playing with in your hand?_

_Pointy Shoes, how do you walk with those? Oh, no answer? I see…_

_Squinty Eyes, do you want to go to bar with me_ … you fumbled over the way to sign “la’er” and improvised a new gesture.

_Suit One…? No you are Sullen Face. What is wrong? Want to go to bar with Squinty Eyes and me la’er?_

“Oi! Didja just flip me off?!” Face red and fuming, you named him Tomato Pepper, before registering that his ire directed solely at you. For a hot minute, you felt elation, but Tomato Pepper came charging at you… _A song never to be cantillated. Beat, bloody and battered…_

Fear, instinctively so, guided you into an exaggerated barrel-roll that ended with you shimmying under a bench and your would-be attacker left in utter bafflement at your apparent disappearance. Lying supine for many moments, you regulated your breathing. Soon, someone sat on the bench above you, but your vantage offered only a view of the person’s calves and shoes. The shoes in question were not as pointy as Pointy Shoes, so you named the individual Less Pointy Shoes.

Less Pointy Shoes bent over, peering under the bench. “Hi! ♠”

You recognized the red hair and pale face. His name was Cherry, not Less Pointy Shoes.

“Hi, ‘m Beat Styles.”


	3. Chapter x Three x Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do as the Lime does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to let you know that I love all you readers out there. Every time—seemingly every week—I get a notification of kudos, it's like: oh... someone likes this.... whuuuuutttttttttt.
> 
> And I also wanted to clarify that it takes me so long because every chapter gets revised so many times before I am content. I DID get depressed when HxH went back on hiatus though—can't deny that.
> 
> :D ILU~
> 
> (Also love how I catch three typos after posting. Thisismylifenowiguess.)  
> (As always, spot typos, plox.)

** Chapter x Three x Castle **

Leaning far to the right, practically slipping gracelessly off the bench, you observed, overjoyed, that Cherry’s yellow eyes followed _your movements_. Though other similar instances occurred previously, it never failed to shock you oh so convivially.

Clearly pleasantly occupied, Cherry chuckled darkly, deeply. And you grinned like a downright idiot because at least one of you lacked the comprehension of basic social interaction. Or simply did not care.

Splaying his wan fingers wide, displaying both sides for drawn out inspection, Cherry leisurely, but with full purpose, then clasped his hands together. A moment or several passed, and you leaned forward, eager. He revealed his palms, or rather the rectangular stack of red-checkered papers. 

“What is it?” You frowned, not understanding the purpose.

Once more, he chuckled. “You’ve never seen playing cards?”

You shook your head profusely, pulling up your black hood when it fell down.

“You’re not from here.” Cherry began to bend and fold the _playing cards_ , making an odd sound not unlike tearing segments of celery.

“Nope, Cherry!” Although his statement was rhetorical, you answered nonetheless.

He cocked his head to the side, running a hand through his red hair while the other gripped the _playing cards_ tightly. “... Cherry?” He bit his lower lip gingerly, eyes narrowed in an expression quite intrinsically unique to him.

“Cherry,” you reiterated as you pointed at him.

After a long pause, he corrected, “Hisoka… not Cherry.” 

Nodding, you repeated his name, at the same time replicating the hand movements he used prior to revealing the cards. 

“I’d ask if you wanted to play poker, Bing—”

“—’m Beat.”

“Hee hee~ How about I build a castle?”

“Okay!” Just as before, you inclined forward, quite curious as to what he would do next. 

His hands, and by extension his arms, remained acutely still as he placed and leaned, stacked and towered the cards. Not a single movement proved wasteful, and he only paused when you drew in close—to better view that castle of cards.

In your ignorance, you had no way of knowing that cards _shouldn’t_ be able to stack on the uneven boards of the bench much less stand tall against the whimsy of the wind.

Slowly, tentatively you poked at the cards, and the whole castle bent with it—springing back when you stopped pushing. Giggling giddily, you congratulated Hisoka on the castle. He smirked at the praise, and stood atop the back of the bench to do a mock bow.

And then beeping went off. Despite how familiar the sound, you couldn't quite place it—just an itchy inkling in the back of your head that _you’ve heard that before_ … or at least something similar.

“Pardon me~” he purred while pulling out a rectangular box—thicker but a similar size to the cards—from seemingly thin air. It also lit up, and you recognized it as many people in this city walked with them in hand. Hell, your backpack contained one such device from the real Beat Styles.

His angular face became crestfallen and even heaved a comically exaggerated sigh. “I have to go.” Hisoka help up an outstretched hand, and all of the cards flew into his open palm within moments. 

You clapped and guffawed at the feat.

“Do you have a phone?” he intoned liltingly.

Nodding, you proceeded to shake out the contents of your backpack until the phone in question tumbled out with other articles. Some crumpled up jennies, a semi-folded shirt, and a single red and purple playing card…

Picking up Beat’s— _your_ phone, you held it out before you. Hisoka took it wordlessly, and you gave no resistance. After messing with some buttons and laughing softly, he returned the device back after his own made more that that beeping.

“I saved my number, and I have yours, Bing Ch—”

“—’m Beat Styles. Hee hee~” 

Shaking his head, he rose from the bench. “Yes, yes. Well, _Beat_ , we will meet again. Bye-bye~”

Quickly shoving your stuff back into the bag, you shot up, and successfully halted him with a disjointed “w-wait”. You needed to impress him. Why? You weren’t sure.

What had the Lime done?

“We’r close’ now. Comma back la’er.” And then you pushed him forward, though he did not budge. “Um… Bye… Bye…?”

Nearly doubling over, he clutched his sides while laughing riotously. After collecting his breath, he waved with but a solitary hand and resumed his departure undeterred.


End file.
